


Playing for Keeps

by SunflowerWoman



Category: Shall We Date?: Obey Me!
Genre: Angst, Drinking, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Gambling, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Porn with Feelings, Regret, Rough Sex, Sex, Smut, Vaginal Sex, almost kidnapping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-21
Updated: 2020-12-21
Packaged: 2021-03-10 20:14:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28223004
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SunflowerWoman/pseuds/SunflowerWoman
Summary: You've been pining after Mammon for months, and only after an almost-kidnapping and drug-spell-induced stupor do you get the time alone with him you've always wanted. Implied date-rape type drug use, almost kidnapping, Mammon saves the day and ends up getting laid. Read at your own risk.
Relationships: Main Character & Mammon (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!), Main Character/Mammon (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!), Mammon (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!) & Reader, Mammon (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!)/Reader
Comments: 6
Kudos: 205





	Playing for Keeps

You didn’t know what you were doing here. Really. Truthfully. No idea. How Mammon ever convinced you to join him out gambling in the Devildom’s illicit speakeasy was beyond you - it was beyond _anyone,_ a fact that Asmo made clear when you mentioned your plans to spend your evening with his elder brother to him earlier that afternoon.

“Oh, honey, _what_ in all the realms are you doing with _Mammon?_ And at _night?_ I can think of a million other things you should be doing, one of which being me.” He fussed with your hair to get it to stay in its pins, poking your scalp harshly with one to make his displeasure known. 

You let his comment slide, as you did every other time he tried to get you to sleep with him, and chewed the inside of your cheek. “I don’t know, he just asked and gave me that look…”

You watched through the mirror’s reflection as Asmodeus rolled his eyes at you. “Puh-lease. We all give you plenty of looks, some more dazzling and alluring than others might I add, and you don’t cave for anyone other than Mammon. What you see in that man is unknown to every other soul in the Devildom.”

But apparently Asmo’s claim was untrue. Slumming with the high-rollers, a gambling chip clipped between his teeth as he grinned wildly, Mammon sat like a king among his most trusted knights. They all flung their grimm, their pocket watches, some dazzling coins the likes of which you had never seen before, glowing trinkets of all shapes and sizes, and more to the center of the table like they were throwing pennies into a well to make all their wildest dreams come true. And more often than not, Mammon seized the winnings, pulling them towards him with such large, dramatic sweeps of his arms that you weren’t sure how he didn’t anger the other patrons.

But they all seemed jovial and carefree - a fact that hadn’t been lost on you considering they were all d e m o n s. You hadn’t known demons to be _jovial_ until you came to the Devildom. How things changed so fast.

Mammon had all but forgotten you as you entered the gambling pit, and as you stood wide-eyed and dazed at the sheer magnitude of the underground bunker they fashioned into a gambling house, Mammon veered off to the left without a second glance your way. Nervously, you shifted back and forth from foot to foot as you peered out at the mass of tables, each one a different size and shape than the next, each one filled with demons of similar diversities. Most looked just like Mammon and his brothers - drop-dead gorgeous. And that only made you feel even more out of place as the only non-dazzling, non-powerful being in the room.

Luckily, you wore a pendant Lucifer had given you on your first day in the Devildom; it protected you from anyone who wished to do you harm. At least, that’s what he _told_ you - you weren’t exactly sure if it worked, and you’d yet to test it out. Whenever another demon at RAD eyed you the wrong way, one of the brothers intervened and the offending party scurried away as though they hadn’t even dreamed of looking like they were going to eat you.

Part of you believed that Lucifer only gave you the little silver amulet, some kind of tiered diamond shape that shifted and caught the light as you moved, so that you would feel better and not act like a scared dog around the other demons in school. After all, wasn’t confidence the first step towards building a solid defense? Or something?

Well, either way, you knew that you needed all the confidence you could get to make it through the night unscathed, so when the first waiter appeared by your side and offered you drinks on “your gentleman’s tab”, you couldn’t refuse. They were oddly delicious and bite-sized, so before you knew it, you had partaken in so many shots that the waiter got so tired of returning to hand you a new glass that he left you the entire tray. 

What a marvelous night it was turning out to be. 

Emboldened by the liquid courage, you actually ended up talking to a few other men while Mammon gambled away. Every so often you glanced his way, and whenever you noticed some other demon - male or female, it didn’t matter - pressing up against his backside or resting their hand on his arm to lean close and offer him advice or wish him luck, maybe blow on his dice if he happened to have any, your stomach roiled. You convinced yourself that it was the foreign slosh of liquids in your system causing the pain in your chest, but somewhere deep, deep down, you knew otherwise.

You just weren’t able to openly admit it. 

When your eyes fell on Mammon for the thousandth time, only to see him engrossed in the cards splayed before him instead of on _you_ , you couldn’t help the strangled cry that tore from your throat. Although the three demons surrounding you expressed concern and put a hand on your shoulder, your forearm, your wrist, what captured your attention the most was how Mammon’s eyes flickered to you for the briefest moment before being called away again by the dealer.

 _My, my._ So that’s how you could get his attention. 

Smiling up at one of the demons by your side, you leaned onto their arm and laughed loudly, the sound warming the air around you. You took your companion’s drink from their hand and raised it to your lips, your eyes positively _glittering_ as you noticed Mammon’s lips press into a thin line from across the room. You licked your own and downed the glass in three short gulps. You shivered as it burned in your throat.

Time passed much quicker then as you eagerly attached yourself to the demons at your side - two men and one woman now - and after a while as the edges of your vision blurred and your world started to tilt you forgot what you were flirting with them for in the first place. The woman excused herself after wishing you luck - for what, you weren’t sure - and one of the men followed her out, leaving you alone with the lone survivor. 

He smiled warmly at you and leaned in close to whisper in your ear. You felt his fingertips brush your chin as he tilted your head away just enough so that he could lean in even closer. When he spoke, you felt his lips against your earlobe, hot and unwelcome. Your stomach lurched again and you swallowed whatever was attempting to climb back up your esophagus.

There was something soothing in the man’s tone, though, something that made your body move on its own as he led you towards the exit. He kept speaking slowly, his words almost like a piano’s soft melody lulling you into a trance. Even though your brain cells weren’t fully firing, some part of your soul panicked and your body jolted to try and wake you. You tripped on the threadbare carpet as your toe snagged the floor. But the man caught you in his strong arms, the warmth radiating off of him making you even more sleepy than the alcohol you had been consuming. 

“Let’s get you home,” he murmured, so softly you weren’t sure you’d heard him. But yes, home. He was right. Home sounded nice right now. Home would smell like something other than stale cigarettes and dirty money, and you could wrap yourself up in your comforter and sleep off the hangover you were sure to get. 

But again, something didn’t seem right. You felt like you were forgetting something important, _someone_ important, but you couldn’t quite put your finger on it.

As the demon helped you into a car - _had you taken a car to get here?_ \- you pulled your legs up onto the leather seat and curled up on your side, tucking your arms under your head for support. Your breathing slowed even more in milliseconds, but before the door could close shut behind you, someone’s shouting pierced the fog in your mind and you groaned. The sound was painful, and you covered your ears. 

Then the car lurched and you groaned even louder. You removed your hands from your head and forced yourself to sit up, glaring out the door you’d entered from. You heard the hard thud of knuckles meeting face and the car bumped again, sending your vision spinning. “Stop iiiiiit,” you whined, apparently loud enough for the offending parties to hear.

“Thank god, you’re awake!”

You saw something large and looking very much like the man you were with get thrown to the ground as someone else grabbed your wrists and hoisted you from the comfort of your new bed. “Noooo,” you cried, resisting their pull. “Stop it, I wanna go hoooome.” 

“I’m trying to take you home,” the man grumbled, lifting you from beneath your arms and finally extricating you from the safety of the car. Once you had surfaced outside, you noticed the man’s white hair and couldn’t help the smile that formed. “Mammon!” Throwing your arms around him, you breathed in his scent and pressed your face into his neck. “I’ve missed you,” you mumbled incoherently. 

Mammon made a sound you didn’t recognize, but before you could ponder it, Mammon was grabbed by the shoulder and ripped from your grasp. The other man, the demon who had led you here in the first place, was bleeding from his nose. His eyes were pools of black and he bared fangs at Mammon.

“You piece of shit!” he barked, clipping Mammon in the jaw before he could get away. “That’s _my_ winnings from the night!”

You heard Mammon _growl_ , a low, throaty sound that made your entire body thrum in ways you didn’t know were possible. 

“Back. Away. NOW.” Mammon flashed his own fangs, baring his hands like talons about to strike. “I don’t give two shits about your life, so if you want to keep it, you better run. This one’s mine.”

The scene before you was so bizarre that you weren’t sure how you were feeling. Warm, for sure. A bit confused. Dazed. But oddly… happy? Was it happiness bubbling in your chest or was that just air trying to escape?

When the man threw a fist at Mammon, you were surprised to see Mammon grab his punch easily and start to squeeze. You heard a loud _crack_ come from the man’s clenched hand and instead of yelling like you would have, like _holy shit did this guy just crush my goddamned hand holy shit,_ he headbutted Mammon square in the face. 

This sent Mammon reeling backwards, and his opponent used the opening to punch him again with his good hand. As his fist made contact with Mammon’s jaw, Mammon’s wings unfurled behind him and a dark aura crackled in the space between them. You didn’t see Mammon move, but in the next moment, the other man was bent over on his knees, topping onto the pavement like a broken popsicle stick.

“Whoa,” you breathed, blinking as Mammon settled beside you, already back to his normal self; no wings in sight and no aura to speak of. His jaw was reddened and starting to swell, and the skin around one of his eyes darkened in an oncoming bruise. Silently, he hoisted you into his arms and carried you off into the night. 

You could tell something was wrong since he was quiet. And Mammon was _never_ quiet. But his body was warm and inviting, so you wrapped your arms around his neck and nuzzled your cheek against his chest, your breathing slowing rapidly as he carried you back to the House of Lamentation. The walk might have been short, it might have been long, you had no clue. All you knew was that instead of landing in your room as you anticipated, you ended up in Mammon’s. In his _bathroom_ to be precise. 

The lights stung your eyes and you whined softly as Mammon set you down and leaned you against his bathroom sink. He crossed to the shower and turned on the water, filling the air with static. Reaching his hand out towards you, he sighed. “C’mon,” he ordered, his voice clipped. “We gotta get that man’s spell off of you. It reeks.”

Spell? 

Accepting Mammon’s hand, you paused before the open glass door. “Um,” you breathed, eying him sideways, a coat of pink on your cheeks. “Wh-”

Not waiting for you to finish, Mammon sighed again and forced you inside the shower, clothes and all. ‘Hey!” you cried, but it was too late. Ice cold water assaulted your senses, and you yelped in surprise and disgust and bitterness. “What the _hell_ , asshole!” 

Mammon stood in the shower doorway, his arms crossed over his chest. He was leering at you in a way that you found offensive, considering he was the one who just shoved you into the shower. As your hair fell out of its pins and onto your shoulders, you felt the weight of it like a ton of bricks. Suddenly it was hard to breathe, and you fell backwards onto the glass pane with a tremor. Immediately, Mammon was in the shower with you, his arms around yours to hold you up. “Easy,” he said calmly, holding you firmly. You couldn’t feel his touch since your body had gone numb, and the pins and needles jabbing behind your eyelids was all you could focus on. You raked in uneven breaths, Mammon’s hands rubbing your arms in quick movements. 

“It’s okay,” he muttered, and you weren’t sure if he was speaking to you or to himself. “It’s okay.”

Your entire body was soaked through, your dress clung to you suffocatingly, and your hands started to shake. Mammon pressed closer to you, and finally you felt his warmth as his chest covered your hands. He reached out and turned the water off, _thank the gods_ , and you stood trembling before him, unsure if you wanted to vomit or cry. Maybe both. Definitely both.

But the tears came first and the rest never did, so you leaned your back against the glass and let your knees buckle. Mammon wouldn’t let you fall and instead gripped you tighter, like he was determined not to lose you, not like he almost had a mere hour earlier. 

Your silent tears turned into sobs as you gained control of your senses again and the understanding of what had just almost happened washed over you. You found yourself clutching Mammon’s wet shirt and burying your face in it, burying yourself in _him_ to leave all traces of that casino behind and only be left with _him_ , the only one you ever truly wanted. The only reason you ever even went in the first place. 

As your breathing calmed, your hands slid from his chest to his sides and you gripped him tightly. “Th-thank you,” you stuttered, a hiccup forcing its way from your chest. “I don’t know what happened.”

Mammon’s hand had found its way to your hair and he clutched your head harder than he probably should have. “It’s okay,” he repeated again, perhaps not hearing you. “It’s okay.” 

By that point you were both exhausted so you ended up on the shower floor, still wrapped in each other’s arms. When you looked up into his face, you noticed the bruising around his eye had darkened and the mark on his jaw had swollen even more, and you gasped. It was all your fault. 

“No,” Mammon stated firmly, his lips turning to a harsh frown. “Don’t you even think that. Don’t you _dare_ think that. It’s MY fault for not paying attention. I should have been with you the entire time. It was dumb. It will never happen again.” 

You weren’t sure how he knew what you were thinking but you didn’t really care. You climbed on top of his lap and clung to him desperately, wrapping your legs around his waist and your arms around his shoulders, your mouth pressing so hard into his adam’s apple that your teeth scraped against it as he swallowed.

“Let’s- let’s get you dry,” he choked, peeling you off of him to pull you up. Still not letting go of you although this time only holding your hand, he helped you out of the shower and set you on top of the toilet seat. When his hand left yours to grab a towel or two (or three), you shivered and another apology surfaced on his lips. “The spell- sometimes the only way to counter one of those is by force, and the quickest ways can suck.” He kneeled before you and began toweling you off, determination set in his jaw. It was like he didn’t even feel his injuries. Without thinking, your fingertips traced the edges of the bruises forming his black eye and he winced. 

You blushed, grateful for the warmth that spread across your face. You couldn’t bring yourself to thank him again, so you both stayed silent as he worked to remove all water drops from your exposed skin and most of the moisture from your hair. It wasn’t fair for him to sit soaked to the bone while you dried off, so you grabbed one of the towels by his feet and began toweling him off too. You pressed the soft cotton to his arms and chest with force to try and soak up some of the water in his clothes.

“It’s fine,” he admitted finally, dropping his towel to the floor. “I’ll just change.” He stood and helped you back up. “Can you walk?”

You weren’t sure but you nodded anyway, taking small steps and moving at a snail’s pace from the bathroom to the main part of Mammon’s bedroom. As you veered towards his closet, he stayed close behind you, his hands on your hips to keep you steady in case you faltered. 

You stayed by his side as he rifled through the clothes hanging on the rack, and he allowed you to watch as he undressed, his back turned to you. You’d seen him shirtless only once before, but not like this - not _alone_ like this. His muscles flexed as he wrestled with the shirt clinging to his skin, and you traced the contours of his shoulders, his waist, all the way down to the dip of his hips beneath the waistline of his slacks. As he started to undo his belt, still shirtless, he hesitated and asked in the quietest voice possible for you to turn around. 

Trying not to let your disappointment show, you did as he asked, wondering all the while if he even had anything on underneath his pants. Would you have been able to tell if you’d looked hard enough?

When his hand touched your shoulder, you turned to find him in loose-fitting pajama pants and a black tank top with grimm signs at the bottom edge. He held out a shirt for you to put on. “Here,” he breathed, looking over your shoulder instead of at you. “You need to get out of that, too.”

You braced your hand on his shoulder as you tried to reach for the zipper at your back. Your fingertips just barely touched it, but you couldn’t grasp it to tug it down. Swallowing, you remembered that Asmo had actually zipped you up earlier that evening. You wouldn’t be able to undress on your own. “M-Mammon?” you whispered, internally screaming at how your voice came out as a little squeak. “Could you unzip my dress for me?”

His skin flushed crimson but he gently kept a steady hand on your waist as you turned around to grant him access. “Of course,” he murmured, his breath on your neck making your skin break out in goosebumps. “Obviously I was going to help you. If needed.” He dropped the shirt to the ground before reaching for your back.

With one hand holding the dress taut, he used the other to tug at the zipper. It loosened easily but the fabric still stuck to your skin. You needed more help pulling it off. “There’s a clasp,” you started. “At my neck. If you undo that, we can pull the dress off my arms and then shimmy it down.” Mammon silently obeyed, and you desperately wished there was a mirror in front of you so that you could see his face. You felt his hands on your neck as he undid the clasp, their touch so warm that it almost burned. You reached up and pulled at the dress’s collar, tugging your arms free. It opened at the back like wings unfurling as you pulled it down your front. You didn’t have anything on underneath, so you held your arms in front of your chest. Now bare from the waist up, you weren’t sure if he was just staring or if he had his eyes closed for modesty’s sake. You felt something snap at your neck and the necklace Lucifer had given you fell between your arms and slid down to the floor. You heard Mammon mumble something about good-for-nothing brothers but decided to leave it be. Clearing your throat, you asked if Mammon could pull your dress down the rest of the way for you. “I’m a bit exposed here,” you giggled, hoping to ease some of the tension in the air. You heard him chuckle, his voice lower than normal. Then silence returned.

Your dress lay bunched around your waist and since it had taken a solid tug to put it on, now it would take a few to get it off. You thanked the gods that you wore your cheeky underwear that night as Mammon’s hands gripped your hips. You bit your lip at just how _hot_ his temperature was running since his hands felt like they were made of fire. You could hear him taking shallow breaths as he tugged the garment down over your hips. It dropped to the floor soundlessly, and his hands disappeared from your skin. 

You weren’t sure if he was staring or not staring or what he was doing or not doing, so you curved your back to look at him. His eyes met yours, piercing through you. You shivered, and that seemed to break his trance. “Right,” he sucked in a breath. “You need clothes. _Now._ ” Not only did Mammon feel hot to the touch, but he looked like he was sweating. That, or you really sucked at drying him off earlier. He rummaged through a shelf, pulling at different clothing items and tossing them to the floor. You weren’t even sure if he was registering what he was touching because you saw multiple things that would fit just lying on the ground. After a moment, you crouched and grabbed one by his foot. “I’ll just… put this on.” 

Mammon leaned against one of his shelves, his arms straight out in front of him and his grip knuckle-white, his head bowed so that you couldn’t see his face. “Yes,” he stated with a forced sense of calm. “Please do.”

Although part of you wondered what would happen if you walked over to him in just your panties, you didn’t want to force him into a situation that made him uncomfortable, so you tugged on his shirt - a snug, white, long-sleeve - and a pair of his boxers over your underwear. The shirt was long enough that it fell at the base of your butt, but thankfully his boxers covered the crease of your cheeks like shorts. As soon as you were dressed, at least as dressed as you were going to get, you coughed. “You can turn around now.”

Slowly, as though he wasn’t sure it was safe, Mammon turned to face you. Upon seeing you clothed, he relaxed. “Okay, you’ll just have to stay the night here. My brothers can’t see you like this.” There was still a dusting of pink on his cheeks, but he took your hand and led you out of the closet. “Now what am I supposed to do?” you heard him mutter under his breath.

You bit the inside of your cheek to keep from laughing. He truly was _adorable._ He paused now, his head turning from the left to right as though he couldn’t decide where to take you now. Your lips curved into a smile and you tugged his arm instead. “Can we just talk? Like a sleepover?” You angled towards his bed and pulled him along behind you. Crawling onto his mattress, you sat by the headboard and pulled the silver covers over your legs. Mammon stood frozen at the foot of his bed, his hand over his face and his voice a garbled mess as he sputtered incoherent stings of words together. 

“What’s that?” you asked, attempting to look innocent as you smiled up at him. “C’mon, Mammon, you said I can’t go out. So where else am I supposed to sleep? You gonna force me on the couch?”

He choked out a _no, that’s dumb_ and eventually sat beside you on the bed. You pulled the blankets over him and wiggled lower onto the mattress, eventually settling in and lying on your side. You exhaled slowly, only to breathe in what smelled like cinnamon. Pulling his comforter to your nose, you breathed in the fiery scent and watched Mammon fidget beside you. “It’s just me,” you said finally, reaching out for his hand. “Could you relax a little? You’re making me nervous.”

Mammon made a show of getting under the covers and laying beside you then, careful not to lose contact with your hand. He allowed you to lace your fingers through his as you closed your eyes. You’d had enough adventures for one night. As your breathing deepened, you could hear Mammon whispering to himself. 

“It’s all your fault... Look at what could have happened... Should have kept a better eye on her... Should have locked her by your side… Shouldn’t have gambled so much… Your fault… Could’ve gotten killed… Never again... “

His mumblings made your blood run cold, and although there was truth to some of it, you didn’t want him digging himself a pit of despair over it. Sighing, you leaned on one arm to get a better look at the man. His eyes were open but unfocused, like he was lost in a sea of guilt. You let go of his hand and he blinked, only focusing on your face when you touched your fingers to the bruise on his jawline. “It’s as much my fault as yours,” you spoke softly. “I’m the one who went in the first place, and I’m the one who decided to get shit-faced. I’m the one who didn’t follow you to the table. And _I’m_ the one who flirted with that guy.” You brushed your thumb against his chin, careful not to hurt him. “Not to say that it’s _my_ fault for his shitty actions, but I made poor decisions that gave him the opening. So it’s my fault, too.” You moved your hand to his cheek and ghosted your knuckles over the skin there. You felt and saw it warm beneath your touch. “You’re injured and that’s my fault, so _I_ should be the one apologizing. I’m sorry, Mammon.”

His hand reached up for yours and he pressed it against his cheek, almost nuzzling it. You watched as his eyes fluttered shut, his other arm moving to cover them as he lay is forearm over his eyes. “No, I’m the one who’s sorry. I’m a shitty guardian demon who let you get hurt. Who almost let you get _kidnapped._ If you’re thinking of forgiving me- don’t. I don’t deserve it.”

Huffing in part disbelief and part annoyance, you grasped his other hand in yours and held it above his head. Now exposed, the look Mammon gave you with his cheeks flushed and his jaw set, lit your nerves on fire. ‘I have to forgive you, Mammon,” you ground out, your hair falling over your shoulder to tickle his nose. You weren’t planning on admitting the next part, but it tumbled free on its own, leaving you powerless to stop it. 

“Don’t you get it? I love you, you idiot.”

Stubborn to the last, Mammon turned his eyes from yours and looked off to the distance. “You’re just saying that because you feel bad.” 

This. Man. Infuriated. You. 

Gasping both for air and out of frustration, you leaned into him and captured his lips against yours with a force that relayed just how strongly you felt about this - about him.

He froze, surprise clear on his face, but once he realized what was happening and allowed himself to believe in it, he pressed back into you feverishly, breaking your hold on his hand to caress your neck and pull you even closer. 

There was no time for breathing as you both drank in each other eagerly, taking turns biting each other’s lips and easing the sting with soft caresses and apologetic licks. Since you were on top, you released him and gazed deeply into his sapphire eyes, sparkling brighter than diamonds. Repeating your admission, you smiled as he pulled you into another kiss, this one gentler than the last. 

_I love you._

Mammon flipped you so that he was on top and began peppering kisses down your neck, his hand at your waist wandering upwards beneath your shirt. His hand hovered at the bottom of your ribcage as he nuzzled your neck with his nose. He moaned softly, a whine in his voice as he said, “Are you sure about this? About _me?”_

You exhaled loudly, your frustration growing. But you knew Mammon was a bit delicate and may not take kindly to any hints of annoyance in your voice, so you took his hand and guided it to your breast, wrapping his fingers around you as you squeezed his hand beneath yours. As you arched your back into him, you moaned out a _yes_ and he began palming you eagerly, his teeth scraping a delicate spot by your ear. As he massaged your breast, your hands traveled the expanse of his back, marveling at how well-built he was. You dug your fingers into his muscles, enjoying the feel of them flexing beneath your touch. You lowered your hands to his hips, dipping just beneath the waistband of his pants to grasp at his bones and dig your nails in juuuust a little.

He cursed against your skin and started rubbing his crotch against your thigh, one of his knees pulled up high enough to rub into your clit. You moaned loudly, opening your legs to grant him more access. His mouth moved to your collar bone and nipped at the skin there before he pulled your shirt over your head, leaving you bare before him. A hungry glint in his eyes sent a wave of heat down your spine, settling at the apex between your thighs. He smirked as your breath hitched and lowered himself directly over your breast, teasing your nipple with his breath.

“M-Mammon!” you cried, your gasps filling the air as he took the mound in his mouth and sucked hard. He rubbed his knee against your clit and his cock pressed harder against you, all the while he kept his tongue flicking out over your nipple. You grasped his hair and tugged him up to your mouth, biting his lip _hard_ and whimpering as he readjusted his hips to align with yours. He ground into your heat, swallowing the sounds of your moans with his lips. 

“P-please,” you cried, pulling his pants over his hips and as far down his legs as you could. His member sprung free and you grasped it in your palm, stroking in time with his thrusts. He shuddered above you and gasped against your neck, rubbing into your hand so forcefully that he pressed into your abdomen as well. You enjoyed how undone he had become, and so quickly! The thought made you snicker, and as soon as the sound left your lips, Mammon stopped moving and leaned over you.

Lips parted, breathing ragged, he leered down at you and pressed his cock harshly against your clit. Your eyes rolled back in your head and you moaned loudly, so loudly that you could hear the echo in Mammon’s massive room. 

“What was that?” he rasped, using one hand to remove your boxers and panties in one quick movement. He pressed two fingers against your lips and his eyes clenched shut. “ _Fuck,_ [MC].” You were positively _drenched_ , and he slipped his fingers inside you with ease. Your back arched again and you humped against his hand, forcing his fingers all the way inside you. “How long have you been waiting for me, baby?” Mammon sighed, his lips once again on yours. He thrust his tongue into your mouth, not allowing you to actually answer, and he moved his tongue in time with his fingers. In and out, swirling, curling. It was enough to make you scream if his mouth wasn’t covering yours.

Your thighs trembled and he rubbed his cock against your inner thigh. It was so hard that you knew if it hurt you, it must also have been hurting him. He removed his fingers from your warmth and rubbed them against his length, pumping one two three times. His mouth was open and he panted, leaning up on his knees as he looked at you and jerked himself off.

This was a welcome sight, something you hadn’t ever imagined. He felt better than a dream, better than all the times you had made yourself cum to the thought of him sucking your clit or pounding his dick inside you. His eyes smoldered like embers, drawing you in, leaving you breathless and wanting. Your breathing matched his as you reached down and spread your lips apart, sinking in one finger to feel _any_ friction that might soothe the ache inside. 

You hadn’t noticed before, but at some point his wings had unraveled and his horns had appeared, the white marks trailing his body almost like a road map to pleasure. You traced the lines down to his penis, licking your lips as he stroked himself. His eyes were slitted now, and you leaned up to replace your fingers with his cock. As you pressed him against your heat, he began to rut against you, your juices coating his member as he pressed into your folds, and you moaned, whined, _begged_ for him to put it inside you. 

While you expected him to simply rub the tip against your clit again, he pressed his dick deep into you, moving slowly but forcefully. He shifted his hips and sat up on his knees, grabbing the outside of your thighs. As he pulled his hips back and pulled a few inches out of you, your breathing grew heavier and your eyes rolled in the back of your head. Then he thrust forward, gripping your thighs so tightly you were sure his nails would cut your skin. He slammed your hips into his and groaned loudly, starting a breakneck pace that had you reeling. You tried to breathe in time with his thrusts, but he moved so quickly that you found yourself gasping for air and clutching onto the sheets for dear life. 

His touch burned you, once again hot as coals, as he branded you as his. With every thrust, you felt a shock wave of pleasure course through your veins and you cried out every time. He slowed down and your eyes adjusted enough to see the sweat dripping from his brow. Just when you thought he was about to pull out, he thrust into you again, _harder_ , deeper than before and you bit your finger to keep from screaming. Again he pulled out slowly, and you writhed beneath him. Smirking, he snapped his hips and thrust his entire length inside you. You watched through lidded eyes as he set this new pace, your back arching painfully far as he reached out with one hand to tweak your nipple between his fingers. 

“M-Mammon,” you cried, and he stilled inside you. You were almost at your breaking point and your voice trembled as much as your thighs.

Breathing heavy, he leaned back over you and rest his elbows by your shoulders. “Are you okay?” he asked, his voice a throaty mess that made your walls clench around him. He moaned and twitched inside you. “I take that as a yes.”

You somehow managed to smile despite your heavy breathing and pressed your forehead to his. “Don’t,” you rasped, “Stop.” You clutched at the nape of his neck and pressed your hips against his, seating him further inside you. He bucked to meet you and hissed close to your mouth. “I’ll never stop if you let me.”

Then he was moving again, the angle sharper so that his shaft rubbed directly against that bundle of nerves that made your toes curl. As you cried out, he rubbed back and forth, sending you into a frenzy. Your nails clawed tears into the sheets and your neck flushed deep red, your back arching and your thighs clenching. You tried to call his name but a moan ripped from your throat instead as your vision turned white and you clenched hard around his member. You felt him twitch inside you as he spilled out into you, his semen coating your walls and leaking out around his cock. He collapsed on top of you and took shallow breaths that matched your own. 

You brushed away the hair that was stuck to his forehead and pressed a kiss there, tasting salt and sweat. He curled his fingers in your hair and sighed into your crown. “I won’t let anything happen to you,” he breathed after a moment, holding you closer to him. “I promise.”

Sweat-slicked and so tired that you couldn’t think, you fell asleep naked next to the man you loved, certain that although he didn’t say it, he loved you just as fiercely.

**Author's Note:**

> I never know how to end these things.


End file.
